From Slytherin Prince to Goblin King
by Banana Flavored Eskimo
Summary: Re-post: Hermione is given free reign over a certain Slytherin and she finds that this Halloween is the perfect time to play a bit of dress up. It really wasn't her fault that he was a dead ringer for a gorgeous Goblin King... (a fun fic. absolutely OOC and a bit smutty so be warned)


**From Slytherin Prince to Goblin King**

 **By: Banana Flavored Eskimo**

 **AN:** An excuse to dress Draco in some incredibly tight breeches and to write about my favourite Goblin King.

* * *

"Do whatever you bloody want Granger."

The brunette frowned; her wild curls a riotous cascade upon her small frame. Large honeyed eyes narrowed at the seated blonde as her full lips pursed into an irritable twist of aggravation. It was early evening and she was now pointedly glaring at the back of the Head Boy as he scribbled furiously upon the parchment spread before him.

Honestly, all she wanted to do was sleep, but with so much to do in so little time, she knew she needed the help of her fellow Head lest she collapse.

"Malfoy, you can't possibly expect me to do all of this work do you!? The party is less than a week away!"

Eyes the color of cold slate merely spared her a bored glance, his mind currently focused upon the intricate lines drawn along the parchment before him. He really didn't have time for a stupid muggle holiday such as Halloween, nor did he have any desire to organize or decorate the entire bloody Great Hall for a school party. He had far more pressing matters to attend to, like creating the perfect play to finally crush Potter in the upcoming Quidditch game.

In his musings, he hadn't noticed the tiny termagant, otherwise known as Hermione Granger, approach him from behind. Looking over his shoulder, his eyes widened upon seeing those impossibly large eyes of hers take in his precious work.

Throwing himself over the spread parchment, he narrowed his eyes upon the Golden Girl of Gryffindor. "What did you see?" he demanded harshly.

"See?" she questioned with such innocence that it was impossible to tell if she were genuine.

A pale brow rose in suspicion as he regarded the small witch. She may be a lioness, but he was absolutely positive that she had the fangs of a serpent.

"I didn't see anything Draco," she said easily, her tongue rolling over the "R" of him name and causing an odd shiver of awareness to race down his spine.

"I don't believe you."

"Believe what you'd like," she said with a wicked smile that almost bordered upon a smirk. "Your Quidditch plays have absolutely nothing to do with me."

"You bloody well saw my play Granger."

"Please, I merely glanced. I also happened to catalogue it," she with a haughty grin upon her face.

"What?" he questioned in a slow long drawl, his mouth drawing out the single syllable with a dangerous edge upon his voice.

Hermione took a deep breath at his voice. She'd gladly give an interview to Rita Skeeter before she would ever admit that Draco Malfoy had an incredibly sexy voice. When angered, his voice would drop a decibel or two, the low timber coursing through her body like liquid fire.

She wasn't sure if he was aware of her reactions – for she'd be damned if he actually did learn – but the Head Boy of Slytherin had her practically weak in the knees whenever he spoke like that. Perhaps she was a glutton for punishment, or maybe she had a bit of a masochist streak in her, because once she had become aware of her reaction, she'd done practically everything in her power to entice his ire.

"I memorized your play," she said a bit breathlessly, unable to help herself.

"How in Merlin did you manage that?!"

Tilting her head to the side, she offered him a wry smile. "I have a photographic memory. Haven't you found it odd that I'm able to recall entire books word for word and even give you exact page numbers, chapters and etc.?"

"No, I simply assumed you were a swot."

Rolling her eyes heavenward, she disregarded his comment. "No matter, it's nothing really."

Draco scoffed. "It's perfect."

"Really? Then you've found out that once you place Crabbe into a position to guard along the lower left hoop for a stronger defence and have Nott, your most agile chaser, go in for a score you'll be able to block Ronald, who will no doubt counteract your movement with his Mince Pie."

The wizard blinked, his brow raised in utter confusion at the mention of food. Was Weasley going to eat during the match in order to distract his team? He wouldn't put it past the towering red head. The weasel was an endless abyss when it came to food. Where he stored it all baffled both muggle and magical alike.

"Mince Pie is the name of the play that Ronald created. It's brilliant really. It offers a flexible defence and agile offence."

"How?"

Hermione shook her head, an incredulous look upon her face. "I'm certainly not going to share that with you Malfoy. Despite my indifference over the sport, I'm still loyal to my house and friends."

Silver eyes flashed angrily, a dangerous scowl playing across his lips. "I'll help you with that bloody party."

"No, I'm quite fine on my own Malfoy. I'll just have my friends help out, but thank you for the offer," she replied easily that it grated heavily upon the Slytherin.

"What do you want Granger," he growled lowly.

'Sweet Circe,' she thought as her breath hitched slightly. She had thought his voice to be sexy when angry, but that growl was downright sinful. However, even she knew she was treading upon dangerous territory. The war may have come to an end and Draco Malfoy was now free to act as he pleased without a psychopathic megalomaniac watching over him and his family, but she knew that he was lethal when he chose.

Simply because he wasn't cursing her, didn't mean he didn't possess the ability. Merlin knew the Head Boy had been practically raised on the Dark Arts and his knowledge of dangerous spells was vast. She may have found his danger enticing, but not the point where she wanted to be on the receiving end of his unrestrained fury.

"Let me dress you," she breathed out.

His scowl disappeared and his body suddenly tensed for an entirely different reason. Studying the small witch before him, a slow smirk spread across his lips. He could admit that she was certainly not the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but even he could admit that she was lovely.

The first time Granger had come traipsing into their Common Room in casual wear, he'd almost had a heart attack. The chit had been wearing these impossibly short trousers that were cut well above her knees showcasing a vast majority of her legs and a loose shirt that seemed to keep slipping off her left shoulder, baring her smooth sun kissed skin much to his astonishment.

He wasn't used to a witch showing so much flesh, especially when it came to one Hermione Granger. She always wore her robes outside the Common Room, even during the weekends. In wizarding culture, particularly that of which he grew up in, it was scandalous for a witch to expose her shoulders or legs, especially in mixed company.

Yet there was Granger, prancing about the Common in her indecent little muggle wear as she flitted about with this shaft of wood with feathers attached to the end, dragging it across practically ever surface as she sang upbeat muggle songs softly to herself.

Tiling his head to the side, his thoughts came back to the present as he raked his eyes over her slowly. Starting from her small bare feet with toes painted a shocking bubblegum pink upwards to her legs encased in ridiculous set of sky blue lounge pants with silly little drawings of colourful bears with even more ludicrous illustrations upon their stomachs. Despite the absurd print, the pants did settle quite nicely upon her shapely hips – much lower than any pureblood witch would have dared to wear.

Her top – if one could call it that – was a sleeveless shirt of sorts with thin straps and the same bizarre bears grouped together. The fabric, on the other hand, fit her very well, hugging the slender curves of her petite frame and stretching nicely across her bust, drawing his attention to those strange bears extending across her generous chest area.

"My eyes are up here."

Draco gave her rakish grin. "I was merely admiring the artwork adorning your sleep wear."

Hermione chose to not dignify his answer with a response, settling for rolling her eyes heavenward. Honestly, they were just breasts. Why men – wizard and muggle – were so obsessed with them were beyond her. They filled with milk during the later stages of pregnancy and were used for nursing offspring.

Sure, hers were a bit larger for her small frame than she would have liked – a hindrance whenever she was running or wanting to carry a heavy load of books – but they weren't anything spectacular. There were dozens of girls in school far more endowed than she.

Her reverie was broken by the Slytherin wizard beginning to unbutton his crisp school shirt.

Cheeks burning in embarrassment, she shook her head as his firm chest was slowly revealed to her eyes. "What are you doing!?" she exclaimed.

"I'm undressing. You wanted to dress me did you not? I merely helping you along Granger," he replied with a roguish grin.

Really, muggle must be contagious. He'd never be so bold in the presence of a witch of his social circle.

"I meant dress you for the Halloween Party. I want to pick your costume."

His pale brow rose in question, his fingers pausing in their quest to undo more buttons. "You just want to choose my costume?"

Hermione nodded her head quickly, her eyes firmly locked upon the far wall to her right, unwilling to gaze at his oh so alluring flesh. Perhaps Quidditch wasn't such a bad sport after all if it kept his body sculpted like that.

"That's all you want?" he questioned. Honestly, he had been something more devious from her. She may seem all prim and proper, but the witch could be wickedly cunning when inclined.

"Yes."

Draco shrugged his shoulders. "Knock yourself out Granger. Just don't choose a costume that makes me look like a ponce."

* * *

"I look like a ponce."

"You do not."

Draco frowned, his shoulders rolling back uncomfortably as he took in his reflection before him. Granger had certainly pulled out all the stops for this. He didn't mind the finely tailored coat, nor was he bothered with the flowing poet's shirt or comfortable black boots. However, he did mind the impossibly tight breeches she had insisted upon him wearing.

Shifting his weight to his other foot, he tried to alleviate the restraining material pushing against his crotch, as it daringly outlined what the Gods had granted him at birth. At least the coat had some bloody tails to give his bum a modicum of modesty; however there was nothing to shield his front.

"Granger," he started off in that dangerous drawl of his. "If you wanted to see my goods, all you had to do was ask. There was no need for you to place me in these constricting breeches!"

"Honestly Malfoy, I have no interest in your goods." This was true, until he had stepped out of his room looking like sex on legs. Now she was blatantly lying to his face.

She knew that dressing him up as this particular character would be incredibly risky, but she hadn't accounted on losing all focus to function properly. Her childhood crush had come back with a vengeance and this time in the form of a certain blonde Slytherin.

"Besides, the look isn't complete."

Draco frowned, suddenly not liking the direction of this conversation. "What else is there?"

Grinning brightly, Hermione merely pointed to a large make-up kit situated upon their Common table.

"No, no, no! I refuse!"

"Draco, we made a deal," she said with a frown.

He hated it when she used his first name. It brought up memories of daydreams and dreamscapes with her arching beneath him, moaning his name breathlessly in ecstasy.

"Fine, put on your bloody make-up and get on with it."

* * *

The Slytherin drew backwards. "I said make-up Granger, nowhere was there mention of sparkling bits!"

"It's not sparkling bits; it's just a touch of glitter! Don't be such a baby!" she argued.

"It's twinkling specks and judging from that label, it's supposed to be used for craft projects! Do I look like a bloody craft for you to decorate!?"

Brandishing her wand, Hermione held it securely in front of his face. "Don't make me petrify you Malfoy. We had an agreement."

Growling lowly, he glared at the tiny brunette. "Ponce away Granger. Ponce away."

* * *

"What do you think you're doing?"

Fingering his flaxen tresses jealously, Hermione marvelled in the glossy feel and texture of his hair. She briefly pondered stealing his products. Merlin knew that whatever he used, he could afford to replace it easily.

"I'm fixing your hair."

Clenching his fists, he steeled himself against leaning back into her touch. The experience of her slender fingers raking through his shoulder length locks was absolute heaven.

"Granger, isn't it enough that I'm shimmering like a pixie? Now you have to mess with my last bit of dignity?" He questioned in a futile attempt to distract himself.

"Oh hush. I'm simply going to style it. The length is perfect for the hairdo I have in mind."

"Carry on Granger."

Brown brows rose in surprise. "You're not going to contradict me?"

"What's the point? You're dead set on doing whatever it is you're doing and you can't possibly make me look more like a ponce than I already am."

* * *

"I stand corrected," he stated in a slow drawl.

"One last adjustment," she said with a wave of her wand as she watched his eyes turn that glorious dual jewelled tone of emerald and sapphire.

Hermione felt her blood pressure sky rocket as her honeyed eyes raked over the finished product shamelessly. That voice coupled with his careless stance. By the Gods, he was practically a mirror image.

"Granger?"

"Take me," she breathed huskily.

"What!?"

The Gryffindor felt her face heat, her face flushing a deep shade of red. Had she said that aloud? Judging from the incredulous look on his face, she did. Dear Nimue, she wished she could disappear.

Dual jewelled eyes watched as the witch bounded up the stairs as if the hounds of Hell were upon her. Raising a brow at her unexpected reaction, a slow smirk stretched across his lips. This was something he could most definitely work with.

* * *

He had always known she was naturally pretty, however whenever she actually placed effort into her appearance, she became absolutely breathtaking. She had charmed her hair color a dark sable, but it was still the same wild locks held back from her face with an intricate hair ornament of silver.

The dress was absolutely voluminous in areas and fitted in others. She practically drowned in the sheer amount of her skirts, but it only enhanced the curve of her waist and bust area by the tightly drawn bodice of shimmering stones and silvery fabric.

His eyes were drawn to the fullness of her lips as she seemed to stand before him, unsure of herself. She honestly didn't need to be. He was a Malfoy and he knew beauty when it stood before him and this witch was exquisite.

"Prince and Princess or sparkle land? Is that what we are?" he asked in attempt to ease her nerves.

Hermione frowned at his question and simply shook her head as she smoothed out her voluminous skirts. "If you must know, I am Sarah, a simple mortal girl who has become trapped within a dreamscape by you, the Goblin King Jareth."

"Goblin?"

"Obviously, not as they truly are."

"Obviously," he said with an amused quirk of his brow. "So I'm a King and you're what? My Queen?"

"You wish me to be."

"Oh bloody hell Granger. Is this some sort of muggle story wherein I'm some ponce that pines away for you?"

Hermione merely rolled her eyes at his question. "No. You are most certainly not a ponce. You're King Jareth, a Faye and ruler of the Underground. Your subjects are the goblins, unwanted children who have been wished away and transformed into otherworldly creatures."

"What do you mean by wished away?" he asked, suddenly intrigued by the story.

"I mean exactly as I said. When someone doesn't want a child, they wish them away and the Goblin King then comes to claim that child."

"Excuse me? Not only have you made me into some fairy king, but now I kidnap children?"

"You're not a fairy king, you're a Faye! In addition, you don't kidnap children. You take away only those that are unwanted. Besides, you give those who wish a chance to claim the child if they realize they made a mistake."

"Oh and how is that? Do I wave my flowery sceptre and twirl about?"

The image of Draco Malfoy waving anything floral and twirling was too bizarre to laugh at. Shaking her head to clear her strange thoughts, she gave him a rather pointed look. "No, you have them run your Labyrinth, a perilous maze of twists and turns with traps and creatures set out to stop the challenger."

"Who did you wish away?"

"My little brother Toby. Actually, he's my half-brother and an infant. He was crying and Sarah isn't the most patient of people."

"So I took the kid, you ran the Labyrinth and I fell in love with you?"

"It's a bit more complex than that. I'm not even sure Jareth is capable of love. He's arrogant, cunning and incredibly controlling."

Draco merely smirked. "Perhaps there's hope for my character after all. So, what do I want other than you to rule by my side?"

"You want to possess me. You want to rule me. You want my complete and utter surrender," she said, her honeyed eyes darkening to a sultry shade of burnt umber.

Breathing laboured, Draco turned away from the sudden temptress standing before him lest she see the effect her words had upon him. She had gone from angel to succubus in a matter of seconds.

' _Damn these tight breeches,'_ he thought miserably as he felt himself harden and swell beneath the constricting material causing the fabric to bulge and stretch to its limits.

"Excuse me," he growled out harshly, his control slipping with each painful step.

Hermione exhaled as she watched him disappear towards his room. A deep flush swept across her cheeks warming her body, which she suddenly found pulled taut like a violin string. "Goodness," she sighed as she fanned herself.

Rubbing her thighs together, she contemplated running upstairs to replace her stockings with a pair of hose. Her knickers had been in a perpetual state of dampness ever since laying her eyes upon Draco dressed in those bloody wonderful pants. Now it was as if she suddenly sprung a leak as her temperature skyrocketed and the slight dampness had increased into complete saturation.

Eyes darting towards his closed door, a tired smile stretched across his lips. At least her problem wasn't so visible.

* * *

She was sin. Seven sins sent by the Gods themselves to pull him into the depths of Hell. Oh, but what a way to go...

He had been horribly tempted to simply wank in the privacy of his chambers, but getting those blasted breeches had been difficult enough with magic, he didn't particularly care for another battle. Therefore, he had spent an inordinate amount of time simply leaning his head against the cool glass of his window, thinking of anything to take his mind off the damned Siren downstairs.

' _Snape, Hagrid, Snape and Hagrid.'_ Ugh. That did it. However, he wouldn't have this luxury once they were in the Great Hall.

Several charms and a few creative spells later, he found his breeches much more comfortable despite their unchanged state and his thoughts more under control. Stepping out into the Common, his eyes took in the flushed state of one Miss Granger and felt himself twitch involuntarily.

' _Sin. Absolute sin,'_ his mind echoed treacherously.

* * *

"Perhaps you would like a picture?"

Draco watched with barely concealed amusement as the young fourth year scurried away from the Head Girls presence. She had been particularly territorial ever since they had made their entrance, her sharp tongue slashing relentlessly as her magic crackled about her petite build.

It was intoxicating to say the least, to see a witch so worked up and defensive of him. It was a complete role reversal and he suddenly found himself the one being protected from grabby suitors as his Gryffindor guard chased away unwanted twits and bints.

"Honestly, as if they've never seen a man dressed as a Faye before," she stated sourly.

"They may have, but certainly nothing that comes close to the perfection before them," he said with a haughty twist of his lips.

Her breath hitched. Draco Malfoy may have never seen David Bowie's performance of the Goblin King, but he was certainly playing the part well. Her body practically quaked with absolute pleasure.

"Granger, you're shaking."

"Sweet Circe, you're so hot," she breathed huskily.

The Slytherin frowned at her words. "No, I'm not. The temperature is kept rather cool in the Great Hall due to a charm."

Hermione suddenly found herself as laughter bubbled from her lips. "Oh dear," she giggled softly to herself. Muggle slang was most definitely not taught in Muggle Studies and for once, she was never more thankful.

"Of course Malfoy."

Draco frowned at her words suddenly feeling as though he missed something entirely.

* * *

Twirling about, she raised the hems of her layered skirts as she danced aimlessly to a tune only she could hear.

"What are you still doing here?"

Ceasing her movements, she simply shrugged her shoulders. "I could ask the same of you."

"You weren't following me when I left the Hall, so I returned."

Hermione laughed softly at his explanation. "Malfoy, you needn't worry. I'm a big witch. I simply wished to dance for a few moments."

"You danced during the party," he drawled lazily.

The former brunette laughed. "Keeping Ron from stumbling and Harry from stepping on my toes is not considered dancing."

Draco merely smirked at her words. She was certainly kind in her description. The oaf Weasley could barely coordinate his long limbs while Potter kept his gaze on the floor, his mouth counting out steps every other beat he wasn't trampling on the poor girls feet.

"Dance with me then."

"Surely you jest," she admonished the blonde in her sudden surprise. "There's no music."

A soft tune suddenly filled the air, the first few notes a sweet trill in the air as it was joined by a cacophony of instruments and a smooth crooning voice.

Gasping at the familiarity of the song, she took a hasty step back. "How... how did... it's muggle!"

Chuckling softly at her reaction, she watched as his charmed eyes danced with mirth. "So are a number of student's families. When that loony girl from Ravenclaw-"

"Luna. Her name is Luna."

"Yes, when that loony girl from Ravenclaw," he restated without care, "congratulated me on my portrayal of the Goblin King, she asked me, 'Has the world fallen down?'"

The Gryffindor smiled at the words.

"I thought she may have gone barmy, at least more so than her usual, but then she mentioned it to be a song and rushed away only to return a few moments later with a wizarding wireless and a number of her favourite songs."

Exhaling slowly, Hermione approached him slowly. "May we start the song over please?"

Smirking in pleasure, because his smiles were more smirks than anything, he gave a slow nod of his head. "Of course Sarah," he drawled slowly, his voice dragging over the syllables of her character's name.

A furious flush appeared on her skin as she felt her sodden knickers receive another glorious rush of pleasure. "By the Gods,"

"Not the Gods luv. Your majesty would suffice."

Her knees buckled as she heard the song begin anew, strong arms wrapping about her frame and holding her closely to his firm chest. "You're much too alluring for your own good."

 _There's such a sad love  
Deep in your eyes, a kind of pale jewel  
Open and closed within your eyes  
I'll place the sky within your eyes_

 _There's such a fooled heart_  
 _Beating so fast in search of new dreams_  
 _A love that will last within your heart_  
 _I'll place the moon within your heart_

His lips twisted into an amused smirk as he brought her body flush against his own. "You're quite corrupting yourself my deadly little sin."

 _As the pain sweeps through  
Makes no sense for you  
Every thrill has gone  
Wasn't too much fun at all  
But I'll be there for you-oo-oo  
As the world falls down_

 _(As the world) Falling down  
Falling in love_

"It's so painfully beautiful," she whispered, her breath fanning the length of his sternum through his thin poets shirt, as she was much too short to even reach his neck.

He wasn't sure how to reply, his heart racing with the feel of her in his arms.

"Oh?"

He wanted to kick himself for his pathetic response, but she didn't seem to mind his lack of proper words.

 _I'll paint you mornings of gold  
I'll spin you Valentine evenings  
Though we're strangers till now  
We're choosing the path between the stars  
I'll leave my love between the stars_

"Yes. He loves her. He would give anything for her, yet she's torn. She cannot abandon her brother and despite the fact that he is technically the villain of the story, she too has come to care for him."

 _Falling  
(As the world) Falling down  
Falling  
As the world falls down  
Falling  
Falling  
Falling  
Falling in love  
As the world falls down  
(down) Falling  
Falling  
Falling  
Falling in love (love)  
Falling in love  
Falling in love  
Falling in love_

"Your characters are tragic Granger," he stated softly.

Grinning brilliantly, she gazed up into his charmed dual colored eyes. "Maybe so, but it's still a wonderful story."

"You fancy Jareth don't you?"

She buried her head within the folds of his poets' shirt, suddenly embarrassed about her childhood crush. "He was my childhood crush."

"Was he now?" he questioned with interest.

"Yes, before I met you."

Draco stopped their gentle movements, his eyes settling upon her bowed head. Brining his hand beneath her chin, he gently tilted her head to meet his gaze. "Pardon? You had a crush on me?"

"Of course I did. You are incredibly handsome, even I can admit that and you're smart to boot. I always have found intelligence to be rather attractive. Plus, I seem to have a thing for blondes," she said with a soft smile playing across her features.

"Jareth is blonde then?"

"Mmm," she murmured in agreement.

"Well, if he's anything like me, then I must say you have brilliant taste Granger."

Hermione shook her head in amusement. "It's actually quite frightening how much you're alike."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, didn't I say it before? He's arrogant, cunning and controlling."

The wizard frowned. "I can concede to the former two, but I'm certainly not controlling."

"That's a lie Malfoy and you know it. You hate when things don't go your way. When that happens you manipulate the situation, like a true Slytherin, until it is once again on the path you want."

"You truly are a sin. Your sharp tongue should come with a warning Granger. How am I to protest a compliment and insult rolled into one?"

"You don't," she responded with a cheeky grin.

"Sin," he whispered, his lips suddenly much closer than she had realized.

"Controlling," she echoed, her voice soft as she tilted her head upwards towards his.

His lips took hers in a demanding kiss, branding her with his entire essence. He stole her breath as he practically devoured her mouth, drinking in her sweet moans of bliss.

Hermione felt herself become lightheaded as she allowed the tall Slytherin to seize her lips in any way he pleased. Feeling his tongue running across the seam of her lips, she gasped softly at the sensation and found herself being consumed by his being, her body lifting from the floor as he hauled her petite frame into his strong arms, bringing her mouth level with his.

Burying her slender fingers into her hair for leverage, she suddenly became just as aggressive in their kiss. Pulling at his light tresses, she fought against the thick fabric of her skirts and wrapped her legs around his waist, sliding her body enticingly against his own.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed as he pulled away from their heated kiss as he felt her shapely little body rub deliciously against his. Her knickers were soaked, her hot pulsing centre practically drenching the material of his breeches.

Holding her hips, he ceased her enticing movements and stilled her actions.

"Why?" she said breathlessly

Meeting her glazed eyes, he took in her parted lips and unkempt appearance. Gods she was beautiful like this. A feral grin overtook his features, his charmed eyes flashing darkly with unconstrained lust. "If you think we're done my deadly little sin, you're mistaken."

Eyes widening with realization, she felt herself being pulled into an unrelenting embrace as he walked quickly towards their rooms.

* * *

She was so deliciously sore. Her body ached and her movements were slow and lethargic, but she could hardly keep the sated grin off her face. It was, however horribly cliché the word, magical. Draco had been the embodiment of his character as he possessed her mind, body and soul.

The Gryffindor lost count of how many times she had reached Nirvana, but she knew that the blonde had been more than generous with her. From her recollections of what she had overheard from a few muggle girls at the grocery store last summer, it was supposed to be painful and rather unsatisfying.

Draco was anything but. He was so giving and incredibly tender with her when she wanted it and so roughly demanding when she begged for it. It was as if he knew exactly what she needed and gave without any thought for his own pleasure.

However, she made sure that he too was more than satisfied. She may have been a virgin, but she certainly wasn't a prude. Muggle culture was far more open with their sexuality and getting information was as simple as opening a book or accessing a few sites on her computer. Knowledge was certainly power and she had wielded it well the previous evening by brining the Slytherin absolute euphoria.

Stretching lazily, she began to push the heavy comforter from her body and ease away from her slumbering partner.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Hermione smiled softly as she felt his body slide up against hers, the stubble upon his chin grazing the flesh of her shoulder in an oddly ticklish way. "I need to use the washroom. I must look a fright."

"You look as though you've been thoroughly shagged and knowing that I'm the reason makes you look absolutely beautiful."

"Flatterer," she said softly as he began to trail languid kisses along her spine. "Last night I was a sin."

"Vanity is a sin is it not?" he questioned with a chuckle as his arms snaked about her middle to pull her flush against his frame.

"You're too much," the brunette commented, the glamour charms she had placed last night fading sometime during their many couplings.

"Come back to bed my sweet sin and let's have a lie in."

Her eyes rolled heavenwards. "And you call me a sin. Isn't sloth another one?"

A smirk played across his lips as he simply buried his face into her mane of thick hair. "Go to sleep."

"Controlling git," she retorted with a soft smile.

* * *

 **AN:** Re-post from ages ago.

I was watching Labyrinth (if you haven't seen it, WATCH IT NOW) and remembered I wrote this. Since I'm uploading things again I thought to put this up.

Hope you enjoyed it!

What to look out for in the future:

Hermione X-over's ahoy including -

X-Men (Hermione x Nightcrawler)

Avengers (Hermione x Steve Rogers)

and of course updates with other stories I am currently working on.

Review and tell me what you think. Or better yet, pitch me an idea. I'll have more free time (save when i'm not at festivals) so let me know!

\- Banana Flavored Eskimo


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